Where There's Smoke
by Redconky
Summary: A fire in Donna's apartment building leads to sparks of another variety.


**Title**: Where There's Smoke . . .  
**Author**: Redconky  
**Email**:   
**Author's Notes**: _This was completed after "The Stackhouse Filibuster" and before "17 People." There are several references to previous episodes, mostly "In the Shadow of Two Gunmen" and "In Excelsis Deo". Most of the characters belong to the undeniably talented Aaron Sorkin, with a few of my own creations for additional color and to move along the plot. This also includes the lyrics to a ballad sung by Billie Holiday titled "Until the Real Thing Comes Along," written by (take a breath before reading THIS list) "S. Kahn, S. Chaplin, M. Holiner, A. Nichols, and L.E. Freeman". This is the beginning of a series I'm calling "A Fork in the Road" and is in no way connected with my first fanfic "The Dance That We Do". Constructive criticism is welcome_.

_Only a few more blocks_, Donna thought to herself as she drove half-awake to her apartment. It was 1:47 a.m. and she had roughly 5 hours to sleep, shower and get to work. It had been a long day at the White House. Josh had so many projects coming together at the same time it had made her head spin. She worked to veil her exhaustion, but she suspected Josh picked up on it when she nearly bit his head off for taking the last slice of pizza. She had hoped eating more might combat the effects of her lack of sleep, which led to her short-lived but memorable temper tantrum. Donna felt embarrassed afterward, but Josh should have expected this to happen sooner or later. People are bound to snap when they are constantly pushed dangerously close to the breaking point.

About a block away from her apartment building, Donna saw a roadblock. Then she saw the flashing lights and smelled the smoke. The stench of something burning was overpowering. A firefighter approached her car as she stopped.

"Sorry, ma'am, but you'll have to take the detour."

"Where's the fire?"

"In that old, run-down apartment building." Donna looked to where the firefighter was pointing. It was her old, run-down apartment building. Her eyes grew very wide.

"That's where I LIVE," Donna nearly shouted. "I have to get in there. My roommate . . . she's out of town, but she has cats . . ."

"Yeah, we got some cats out of the building, along with some people who slept through the smoke alarms. You can't go in there. It looks like a total loss. What the fire didn't get the water probably ruined."

Donna let out a sigh of defeat. She looked at the shell of the place she used to call home. The firefighter saw Donna's dejected expression and realized he should do something.

"Why don't you pull over? We'll see if any of those cats we got are yours," he said in a gentler tone. Donna nodded in agreement. After she parked, he led her to the scene. She stood a safe distance from the flames, but she couldn't escape from the smoke. It was swirling all around her in the crisp night air, stinging her eyes. About five minutes later, the firefighter approached with a large box that wobbled in his hands.

"Are these yours?" he asked while trying to keep a grip on the box.

"Oh thank God!" Donna exclaimed. She picked up one of the fur balls and stroked it gently.

"Here's an address for a 24-hour emergency vet clinic. You'll want to take them in for a check-up. I'll call in for you to say you're on your way."

"Thank you," Donna said somewhat meekly. The sadness of losing her home was beginning to sink in, but she was grateful the cats escaped. "You've been very good, helping me out like this."

"That's what I do."

"Could I ask one more favor?"

"Help you carry them to your car?"

"Yeah."

"Sure thing."

It was now 4:30 a.m. Donna was waiting for someone to come out and tell her the cats would be fine. But it had been a little more than two hours and there had been no word. It was eerily reminiscent of the night Josh was shot. Of course, the cats were in far better shape than Josh, and she didn't feel quite as attached to the cats, but that feeling of uncertainty was there. Donna concluded she was far too familiar with emergency waiting rooms in the D.C. area.

_I don't suppose there is a market for coffee table books on Washington, D.C. emergency rooms_, Donna thought in an attempt to bring a little levity to a dark night.

"Ms. Moss?"

"Yeah," Donna replied.

"Hi, I'm Jessica, Dr. Halifax's assistant. I'm sorry we kept you waiting, but we wanted to complete the exams before giving you any news."

"I understand."

"I'm sure they're going to be ready to go home in a few days."

Donna became more concerned. "A few DAYS?"

"Well, they didn't come away from the fire unscathed. They inhaled quite a bit of smoke, plus they lost some fur. It looks like they brushed up against something that was on fire."

Donna felt awful. In her own disoriented state, she hadn't noticed any burns on the cats.

"We'll keep them here and make sure they get their bandages changed regularly and some much-needed rest. You look like you could use a little yourself."

Donna laughed slightly. "Yeah. Before they can come home, I need to find them a home they can come to."

"Don't worry about these guys. We'll take care of them. Go and take care of yourself. Here's our card so you can touch base with us."

"Thanks," Donna said while taking the card.

Donna felt she couldn't call anyone at such a late hour. As far as she knew, she had nothing but the clothes on her back, the things in her car, and whatever was at the office. _I'll call my parents in the morning to explain why they won't be able to reach me at the apartment, _Donna thought._ I'll go back to the White House._ _They have showers. Yes, I need a shower. Followed closely by a nap_._ It's too late to get a decent night's sleep now._

At 7:45 a.m., Donna felt a hand on her right arm.

"Donna?"

Donna worked hard to pry open her eyes. All she could make out was a tall, lean figure hovering over her with brown hair on top.

"Donna, it's C.J. I saw your building on the news. Don't tell me you slept here last night."

"Afraid so," Donna replied while stretching and sitting up. "I got home at 2 a.m. to see the fire trucks and I had to get my roommate's cats to the 24-hour vet and . . ."

"Why didn't you call me? Or Josh? Or Sam? We would have taken you in."

"CJ, I didn't get here until 5 a.m. I took a shower and the only office I found unlocked at 6 a.m. with a couch was yours. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? MIND? Of course I MIND! I mean, I don't mind you using my couch but I mind the fact you felt like you couldn't call one of us!" Donna pulled her head back a little, surprised at C.J.'s reaction.

"I'm sorry," C.J. said in a softer tone. "I just want you to know I'm here for you." She looked at Donna's clothes. "You lost everything, didn't you?"

"I think so. I still can't believe it."

"Let me see if Carol can go to my place today and get you some clothes, even though I don't think we wear the exact same size. Maybe they'll hold you over until you can go shopping. In the meantime, why don't you grab some coffee and food down in the cafeteria?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all night," Donna said with a smile. "Thanks, C.J."

"You're welcome. And don't worry - we'll make sure you don't sleep on a couch tonight."

As Donna attempted to navigate her way to the cafeteria, she bumped into Josh.

"Donna, where have you been? I'm looking for the file on the bills coming up for a vote in the Senate today."

"Josh, I've had a really bad night."

"You're complaining that I kept you here until 1:30 a.m.? Hey, I was here after you and I still managed to get to work on time." Josh paused in his ranting and looked at her. "Aren't those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday? And why do you smell like you've been sweeping chimneys?"

Donna realized Josh had no clue about what she had been through and seemed only to care about what he needed right now. She was tired of his selfish attitude, which had lately grown worse.

"IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT YOU, ISN'T IT?" Donna shouted in disgust as she slightly pushed Josh aside and continued towards the cafeteria. _No need for the coffee now,_ Donna thought to herself, realizing her anger gave her a much-needed adrenaline rush. Josh stared at her in disbelief. He didn't know what was going on, but he was determined to find out after the staff meeting.

Little did he know it wouldn't take that long.

As the meeting wrapped up in Leo's office, C.J. spoke up.

"Guys, in case you didn't see the news this morning, I thought you should know Donna's building burned to the ground last night."

"Is she OK?" Sam asked.

"Was she in the building?" Toby asked.

"She must feel terrible," Leo said.

"Uh-oh," Josh let out.

"She's fine, physically speaking, but it looks like everything that was in the apartment is gone, except for her roommate's cats who managed to get out. She had to take them to the emergency vet and she's operating on less than two hours sleep and . . ." C.J. paused. "Josh, why did you say 'Uh-oh' when I mentioned Donna's fire?"

"Let's just say I'll be eating crow for lunch," Josh said.

"Did you yell at her?" C.J. asked, nearly yelling herself.

"What makes you think I yelled at her?" Josh replied with his voice rising in pitch.

"You have an unparalleled talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time," she said.

"It's a gift," Josh said, trying to joke his way out of this predicament.

"You'd better do something big to make up for this one, buddy," Sam said.

"Alright, alright, we all agree Josh really screwed up," Leo said. "C.J., what can we do?"

Josh looked wounded at Leo's statement. _Yeah, he's right, but did he have to say it?_ Josh thought.

"She needs a place to stay, some clothes and some time to get her life back in order," C.J. said, looking at Josh.

"I'll give her the afternoon off," Josh said.

"I think she'll need more than that, Josh," Toby said.

"But right now, I've got--"

"Work it out!" Leo shouted. "Time to get back to work, people."

As they left the office, Josh walked ahead of the others to get back to his office. He wanted to be alone. He needed to figure out how to make this up to Donna. He shut the door, sat at his desk and leaned his head into his hands.

_Flowers?_ Josh thought. _Nah. That's kind of weak--and obvious. Money? That's even worse. It would make her feel like a kid in a third-world country. Come to think of it, her building did resemble something like one you'd see in a third-world country - and that was before the fire. I always wanted her out of there, but not like this._

The door opened slowly, but Josh's face was still buried in his hands, so he didn't notice.

"Josh?"

He looked up. It was Donna.

"Donna, I am so, so sorry. I didn't know. And even if that hadn't happened, I was out of line." He paused and Donna looked at him, a bit surprised that he recognized he behaved badly. "Besides giving you afternoons off this week, what can I do to help?"

Donna sat down in front of his desk. "I'm not sure. I'm still taking it all in. I guess I shouldn't be surprised this happened, but I still am."

"What do you mean, you shouldn't be surprised?"

"We - the tenants - have been arguing with the landlord for the past six months about failing to make repairs to the building. He keeps increasing our rent but does nothing to maintain our apartments. Some people have windows that let the cold, rain and snow in. Others have toilets that clog or back up half of the time. The set of stairs leading to my apartment is wobbly--"

"And I thought it was just me when I walked on them because I was drunk," Josh quipped. That brought a smile and small laugh to Donna's face. _I made her laugh. This is a step in the right direction._

"So," Josh continued, "you think it was arson because you complained?"

"We didn't just complain," Donna said. "The tenants had a vote last week and we put our rent money into escrow. Our attorney sent him a letter stating the money would remain in the escrow account until the repairs were done."

"The plot coagulates. You think the landlord did this as some kind of revenge?"

"Well, maybe not just that. We've heard rumors he's letting the building rot so he can drive us all out, gut it and turn it into condos. Considering the price of real estate in the D.C. area . . ."

"He could make a mint," Josh interrupted. "Maybe it was cheaper to torch it than gut it. Did the firefighters say anything to you last night about the cause?"

"I overheard a couple of them say they thought it could be arson, but that it was too soon to tell. By the way, here's the file you were looking for."

"Thanks. Why don't you take off?"

"You don't need me?" Donna asked.

"I always need you, Donna. But right now, you've got to contact your insurance company, get some clothes, find an apartment . . . I'd say you've got a full afternoon ahead of you. Where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."

"You still have my key, right?" Josh said with a smile.

"Yes."

"Then let yourself in. I'll probably get in around 8 p.m."

Donna was pleased yet uncomfortable about Josh's offer of hospitality. "Are you sure?"

"It's the least I can do. Now go, before I change my mind," Josh said in a mockingly angry tone.

"OK, I'll see you tonight," Donna said with a smile.

When she arrived at her desk, she found a suitcase with clothes and a note:

"Whatever fits, wear it. Let me know if you need anything else. - C.J."

_Thank God for friends_, Donna thought to herself.

Josh wasn't kidding about his full schedule. But somewhere in between negotiating for votes on several bills, doing research for briefings and formulating questions for the next Democratic poll, he remembered a friend of his from college days who had become a successful property attorney. Josh hated that first year of law school - property, property, property was all they studied. However, Harrison Gray fell completely in love with it. He was even working in D.C. Josh decided to give him a call.

After two rings, an innocuous female voice answered. "Good afternoon, law offices of Harrison Gray."

"Yes, this is Josh Lyman. Is Harrison available?" He hoped his name would help him break through the secretarial barrier.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lyman, he's in a meeting right now. Shall I put you through to his voice mail?" More than Brussels sprouts and overenthusiastic fitness experts, Josh hated voice mail. But if voice mail usage was required to help Donna, he'd do it.

"Sure," Josh replied.

The message played and the inevitable beep came.

"Hi Harrison, this is Josh. Josh Lyman. Um, I know I haven't really touched base with you since I came into town, OK, I know it's been years, but hey, you're busy, I'm busy, you still owe me $200 from that poker game, you know I'm just kidding, right? Anyway, I've got this . . . employee who needs your help. It's hard to explain in a short message but if you could just give me a call at the White House I'd really appreciate it. It's really important. Thanks."

Josh never felt like he could say all he wanted to say in voice mail because the amount of time one has to leave a message is unknown. He also hated referring to Donna as merely an employee, but Washington could be such a small town and he wasn't altogether certain if Harrison counted some of his enemies as friends. _Better to play it safe_, Josh thought.

As Josh hung up the phone, he noticed Sam standing in his doorway.

"Came by to see Donna. Did she leave?"

"Yeah, I wanted to give her some time to get herself together."

"So you're out of the doghouse?"

"For the most part, but I'm working on something that I hope will really help her."

"Josh, I know you mean well, but a scheme might add fuel to the fire…sorry, poor choice of words."

"Sam, Donna told me she and the other tenants put their rent into escrow because the landlord wasn't keeping the building up and that he wanted to convert the building into loft condos."

"Interesting. Maybe that's not his only possible motive."

"What's your theory?"

"Maybe Donna's landlord insured the building at the highest rate possible, torched it to collect on the policy, and then put the land up for sale. That way he can get more than he would if he remodeled or simply sold the property," Sam said.

"That's entirely possible."

"What are you working on right now?"

"I just put a call in to Harrison Gray."

"The Harrison Gray? You mean the guys who bills at what ridiculous rate per hour--"

"He's a friend from college. I'm hoping to appeal to his sense of right and wrong."

"I think his sense of right and wrong is strongly influenced by the depth of his clients' pockets."

"Well," Josh said with a sigh, "I figure it's worth a shot."

"You know, I've got a friend who works for the D.C. rental housing office."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe I can get her to send over the district's rental ordinance. While she's at it, maybe she can send over some info on his other rental properties and their histories."

"That would help out a lot, Sam."

"I'll call her now."

As Sam walked out of his office, Josh was gearing up for a fight. He knew something was amiss with the short time period between the tenants' notice to their landlord and the building going up in flames. "Where there's smoke," Josh said to himself.

"That's all I have for you today. I'll see all of you in the morning," C.J. told the reporters as she stepped down from the podium in the briefing room.

Danny Concanon walked briskly to catch up with C.J.

"Hey there," he said.

"Hey yourself." Then C.J. stopped. She thought about what Josh had told her about Donna's landlord a couple hours after the staff meeting and was suddenly struck with an idea to smoke out the truth.

"Are you buddies with anybody on the city desk?"

"Well, I've been drunk with them before, if that qualifies."

"I mean, is there anybody who's good?"

"I like to think anybody who works for the Post IS good, C.J."

"I'm talking bloodhound good."

"Yeah. Fiona Childs. You know that series we had last year on how the health department failed numerous local public school cafeterias? That was her."

"That's exactly what I'm looking for."

"Why not give the story to me?"

"Because it's not connected to the White House."

"If you know about it, it has to somehow be related to the White House. You practically live here."

"I do live here, but that's beside the point. Would she be there if I called right now?"

"Why don't you give me the info and I'll see if she can do it?"

"Are you trying to steal a story, Danny?"

"OK, I get it. Call the city desk and if she's not there, they'll give you her cell. Can't you at least give me a hint?"

"Let's just say a certain landlord has got me hot under the collar, but I have only rumor and innuendo to string some facts together. I figure she can dig up the facts that I'm lacking."

"I'll let you make your call."

"Thanks, Danny."

As he left the office, C.J. called out to Carol. "Get me the Post's city desk!"

Donna applied the same efficiency that serves her well at work to pulling her life back together. She had managed to make appointments to see three apartments that would allow cats in the same price range she and her roommate were paying. She also bought three suits, four blouses, two light sweaters, two pairs of shoes, a pair of jeans and some of the other various wardrobe accoutrements the well-dressed woman requires. Afterward, she filled out her claim form with her insurance company and visited the cats at the clinic, with new cat toys in tow. Her roommate wouldn't get back from her business trip until the end of the week, so it was up to her to do everything.

It was 8:15 when Donna walked in through the unlocked door. Josh had already changed into jeans and a dark brown sweater, which really brought out his eyes. She was surprised he kept to his word about when he'd get home. When he saw her with the numerous shopping bags, he leapt from the couch and took several of them off of her hands.

"Thanks," Donna said with a smile.

With a less obstructed view, Donna saw the table was already set. She heard what sounded like an Italian opera playing on the stereo. Then the doorbell rang.

"Just a minute!" Josh yelled from the bedroom where he placed Donna's things. He had already decided she would sleep in his room. Tonight, he'd be the one on the couch.

As he walked toward the door, he fumbled through his wallet for money. He opened the door and paid the delivery boy who gave him bags full of something that permeated the room with the aromas of garlic and tomato.

Josh shut the door and opened the bags. "I figured you'd be hungry, so I ordered some lasagna, cannelloni and spaghetti. You pick what you want."

Donna felt comforted by this thoughtful gesture. "You have no idea how good this looks."

"The idea isn't to look at it, but eat it," Josh said. "Preferably before it gets cold." The jesting Josh was back, minus the nasty sarcasm.

Between the two of them, the three dishes disappeared, with Donna eating the lion's share. Donna looked more relaxed than she had all day. He knew an afternoon of shopping, a few jokes and a good meal wouldn't negate the hell she had been through - or would go through - but it was good to see her smile and laugh again.

"By the way, I called a friend of mine today who is a property attorney. I'm going to see if maybe he has any advice for you and your fellow tenants.

"I appreciate it, but you didn't have to do that," Donna said.

"You didn't have to take care of me for three months, either." There was an uncomfortable pause. Donna felt the need to break the silence.

"I'm going to get out of these clothes," Donna said while heading for the bathroom.

"You can change in the bedroom. I changed the sheets so you can sleep there tonight."

_He's taking the couch?_ Donna thought. She knew what it symbolized. It was Josh's way of saying, 'You took the couch when I needed to recover, so now I'll do the same for you.' Not knowing what to say, she smiled and went into the bedroom.

After changing into one of her new sweaters and jeans, Donna flopped onto the couch and checked out what the on-air program guide showed for movies. The first two selections she saw were awful in light of what occurred the night before: The Towering Inferno and Backdraft unexpectedly caught her eye. Josh noted her reaction and gently pulled the remote out of her hand.

"How 'bout a game of Scrabble?" Josh's suggestion struck Donna as a much better alternative than movies that would remind her of the disaster she had witnessed last night.

"Sounds good."

"I'll go get it."

"I'll get the wine." They had started a bottle with dinner. She moved the glasses and bottle to the coffee table. Josh set up the game and dimmed the lights somewhat. It was a full moon and its light filtered through his windows at just the right angle to hit the game board.

As the evening wore on and they killed a second bottle, the game had become more interesting. Donna had managed early on to score major points by putting together "ubiquitous" vertically. Josh added "y" and "o" at the top to form "you". Donna countered with "understanding" off of the second "u". Josh pulled off quite a coup himself by using the "s" for "serendipitous". Donna used the "o" for "love". Josh attempted to use the last "u" to form "hurdle".

"You can't do that," Donna said while grabbing Josh's hand to prevent him from putting down the rest of the tiles.

"Why not?"

"Because the letters have to work horizontally and vertically. See, the 'h' will be under the 'l', and no words begin with 'lh' and the 'r' will be under the 'v' and no words begin with 'vr'."

"Maybe no English words," Josh said.

"We're only using English words!"

"So 'hurdle' gets in the way of 'love'," Josh concluded. That's when his eyes met Donna's. She was still holding his hand. They stared at each other for a few moments, then Donna turned away slightly. Donna became aware that her hand was still grasping Josh's, so she released it.

There it was, on the game board. A conversation both of them wanted to have but neither of them knew how to begin, or how it would end. Instead of discussing what they were both thinking, they took the usual route of changing the subject.

"It's getting late. We ought to turn in," Josh said.

"You're right. But we need to figure out who won."

"You did. By thirty-three points."

"What do I get?"

"A free Italian dinner and the sparkling company of a senior White House staff member."

"So you're treating me and Sam?"

"Very funny," Josh replied as he threw a small pillow at her. He got up off of the floor where they had been sitting and noticed Donna was having trouble following suit. He had forgotten - she doesn't drink like he does. She'd get up, fall down, laugh, and repeat. After three times of doing this, Josh bent down and lifted her under her arms. He found himself holding her. She leaned into him. It may have started as an accident, but she needed this.

Josh's heart was beating rapidly. He wanted to freeze this moment. He felt her heart beating against him. It had been a hard day for her. So many days had been hard for both of them, ever since the night he was shot at the Newseum. He sometimes forgot how much his injuries affected her. All of this chaos from the night before and this day threw her off kilter again. He remembered what he told Leo when he got the card telling him where to go in the event of a nuclear attack; how he wanted to be a comfort to friends in tragedy. A fire might not be a tragedy when there's no loss of life, but she needed him right now nonetheless.

They stood in an embrace for a long period of time. Josh realized that in her exhaustion, Donna had fallen asleep standing up. Not wanting to disturb her, he managed to place her on the couch so he could carefully pick her up, carry her into his bedroom, remove her shoes, and tuck her under the covers.

"Goodnight, Donnatella," he whispered as he lightly stroked her cheek. He left her sleeping form and headed for the couch.

At 6 a.m., the annoying alarm pierced Josh's ears and rudely ceased his sound sleep.

Then he smelled something familiar. It was coffee. As he stumbled towards the kitchen, he saw Donna in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants.

"I hope you don't mind. I forgot to buy PJs."

"No problem." When Donna turned around, he was able to let the grin loose he had reigned in when she faced him. There was something about seeing her wearing his clothes he enjoyed.

"What do you need to do today?" Donna knew Josh wasn't referring to work.

"I've got an appointment at 6 p.m. to see an apartment. I think I can stay at work until 5."

"Are you sure?" Josh didn't want Donna to push herself.

"Yeah. I don't want to get too far out of my routine. I might take a little longer for lunch to see if there's anything I can salvage from the scene. My parents bought me a fireproof safe when I moved here and I want to see if it held up. I had some important things in there."

"Hey, whatever you need." Josh thought a minute. "Do you want me to go with you when you look at the apartment?"

"Why?"

"Well, looking for an apartment is always a pain but you might be tempted to grab the first thing just because you feel displaced. Maybe having a third party there will keep a landlord from snowing you and also you'll have a second opinion."

"You know, I probably would feel better having someone with me." Donna wanted to be self-sufficient, but she also wanted to be smarter looking for a place this time around. "I'd appreciate it."

"Good. I'll drive and we can come home right afterward." Josh was stunned about how casually he talked about 'them' and 'coming home' in the same sentence. They proceeded to get ready for work.

It was 1 p.m. Josh told Donna he was going to have lunch with someone named Harrison Gray. She didn't recognize the name, and before she could get the 411 on the guy, Josh took off. She thought this would be a good time to go through the wreckage that was once her apartment building. The problem was, she knew she'd need some help.

She went to Sam's office, but he was out. Toby was bouncing a ball against the wall when he noticed Donna's discouraged expression. Toby cared about the people he worked with, but had a hard time showing it. He knew his brooding veneer was his only armor to hide his vulnerability, so he made sure he had it on most of the time. However, this wasn't going to be one of those times. He got up and went to his doorway, near where Donna was standing.

"How are you?" Toby asked. Donna was a little uncomfortable with Toby's demonstration of concern. She was used to him being a smart-ass.

"Better, thanks."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Donna paused. She wasn't sure if she could ask him to help her with the safe. But her pride was less important than getting to the safe's contents, so she decided to go out on a limb.

"I was going to ask Sam if he could help me retrieve a fireproof safe from the remains of my apartment building. I appreciate you asking, but I don't expect you to--"

"I've got a little more than an hour free. Let's go," Toby said as he grabbed his coat. Donna was shocked, but she wasn't going to argue. This side of Toby surprised her, but she was intrigued as well.

Neither one said a word until they arrived at the pile of ashes Donna had called home a couple of days ago. She had changed into jeans and a pair of C.J.'s sneakers for this mission. She had also grabbed a dolly from the mailroom. As she and Toby lifted the dolly out of her car, Toby stared at the scene.

"My kingdom for a truckload of marshmallows," Toby quipped. Then he realized this might have been a less-than-tactful remark. He turned towards Donna, hoping she wouldn't rip his head off, or worse yet, cry.

But then something amazing happened. Donna began to laugh. Not chuckle, but really laugh. Laugh to the point where she was in serious danger of bruising her stomach muscles. She sat on the curb and let it all out. Without realizing it, Toby had given Donna a desperately needed release. He took a seat on the curb and started to laugh, too. After a couple of minutes, Donna turned towards Toby.

"Ready to soil your wing-tips?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With that, the two of them waded into the shallow debris. Within 10 minutes, they found her safe. Donna held the dolly steady while Toby lifted the safe onto the dolly. She rolled the safe back to the sidewalk through the path she and Toby had cut. After wiping it off with a rag she brought with her, she opened the safe.

Donna smiled broadly. Every possession that was most precious to her was intact: her photos of her family and friends, a few mementos from childhood, her most vital personal records, and a book. More specifically, The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing by Heimlich Beckengruber, a Christmas present from Josh. She didn't want to lose the inscription he had written inside.

Toby removed the empty box Donna had in the car. She placed her remaining possessions inside of it and pushed the scorched safe into the pile of rubble. She took one last look. Toby sensed she was saying goodbye. He placed his left hand on her right shoulder.

"It's going to be OK," Toby said quietly. Donna knew it took a lot for him to say that. She turned around and gave him a half smile.

"I know," she said. "Thanks to friends like you."

Toby felt his face turn red. "You're welcome," was all he could manage.

"Let's get back to work," Donna said, heading for the car.

Toby turned on her radio and tuned into NPR. Neither of them said a word on the ride back. As they were about to separate, Donna stopped in her tracks and looked at Toby.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," Donna said.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Toby said with a small wave of his hand before he continued towards his office. He was surprised he offered, but he realized he meant it.

C.J. was standing in Toby's office when he walked in. She looked down at his shoes.

"What the hell happened?" she asked.

"I helped Donna get a fireproof safe from where her apartment building used to stand."

C.J. could reach Toby in a way others couldn't and saw some things in him he didn't want others to see. But even she was taken aback by his gesture.

"Toby, that was very good of you." Toby felt the blood rushing back to his face. C.J. realized he wasn't comfortable discussing this further.

"Have you got the numbers from the Federal Reserve we talked about?" Toby asked in order to deflect attention from himself. As C.J. began to read them off, Toby went about wiping off his shoes, feeling secure as he began to slip back into his carefully constructed armor.

While Donna and Toby rummaged through the ruins, Josh was having lunch with his old college buddy. Initially they reminisced about how they'd do silly things to blow off steam in law school, but the conversation soon turned to the business at hand. Josh filled Harrison in all of the details he got from Donna and provided him with a copy of the District of Columbia's rental housing ordinance.

"So you want to go up against Bryce Tristan."

"Who is Bryce Tristan?"

"The name of Donna's landlord," Harrison said. Josh wanted to get this bastard before he knew his name, but now that he heard what a pansy name he had, he really wanted to nail him.

Harrison continued. "He has a reputation for underhanded land and property dealings. I've represented a few clients against his attorneys."

"What's your batting average against him?"

"A thousand," Harrison said with a smile.

"Harrison, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you. The White House doesn't pay Donna enough to afford you. Collectively, I don't think the tenants have enough to pay you. I'm kind of hoping you'll take this pro bono."

"I figured you'd say that. Convince me why I should."

"You just said you've beaten his legal team before. Wouldn't you like to take them down another peg?"

"I might lower my average, and walk away without any money to show for it."

"How about your sense of right and wrong?"

"I can take on paying clients who have equally just causes."

"What if I told you the fire department suspects arson and this case could get a lot of ink?"

"Now you've got my attention. Josh, you've just hired the best property attorney money can't buy. Talk to Donna and figure out when you can get the tenants and their attorney together and we'll get the ball rolling."

Both men stood up and shook hands.

"I appreciate this, Harrison."

"I know you do. Maybe later you can show me how much."

"How?"

"Let me try to win my way out of my $200 poker debt?" Harrison joked. But Josh sensed he'd be collecting this favor in another way, later on down the line.

It was 5:15 p.m. Josh was pulling himself together so he and Donna could leave for the appointment to look at the apartment. Sam knocked on the open door.

"How did it go with Harrison?" Sam asked.

Josh pulled on his coat. "Quite well, actually. He agreed to take on the case if Donna and her fellow tenants want him. Pro bono, even."

"Well, that's a surprise; a nice one, but a surprise all the same. Have you told Donna yet?"

"No. Right now I'm getting ready to go with her to look at an apartment."

"Josh, I realize you want to make up for your original lack of perceptiveness and insensitivity, but can I give you a word of advice?"

"You can give it, but I don't know if I'll take it."

"Don't pressure Donna into any decisions."

Josh stopped gathering his things and stared at Sam.

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm just saying that you like to take control of situations gone out-of-control and I think right now you need to let her take back the wheel. If she asks your opinion, give it but don't be her boss right now. You need to play the role of the supportive guy."

"Supportive guy?" Josh replied with a question while raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah. Try to hold back on the wisecracks and let her feel her way through it. Even if you ultimately disagree with her decision, back off and let her go with it. She needs to take charge more than anything else."

"Supportive guy," Josh repeated, but now as a concept.

"You've got it. I'm going to work some more on that speech. I'll catch you later," Sam said while leaving Josh's office.

A few minutes later, Donna poked her head around Josh's doorway. "Ready?" she asked.

"Let's roll," Josh said while picking up his backpack and keys.

After a 30-minute drive, Donna and Josh arrived at what was obviously an old warehouse.

"Are you sure the address is right?" Josh asked.

"It says 12914 on the building, Josh."

"Let's check it out."

When they arrived at the front door, Donna pushed the button marked 'Office'.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.

"Hello, ma'am? I'm Donna Moss. We spoke on the phone. I'm here about the apartment."

"Oh yes, yes. When you hear the buzzer, open the door."

"All right."

Upon hearing the buzzer, Donna threw her weight against the very heavy door. Josh followed.

As Donna turned to her left she saw a short, thirty-ish woman with a bicycle helmet. It was obvious she was athletic: her Trinity College T-shirt and long bike pants showed off her toned muscles. When she removed her helmet, she revealed a mass of red hair.

"Hello. I'm Colleen O'Leary. I was afraid I had missed you since it took me longer to get back than I planned. Won't you come in?"

Donna and Josh followed Colleen into her apartment.

"Ms. O'Leary--"

"Please, call me Colleen."

"Colleen, this is Josh Lyman." Colleen already knew Josh by his photo from George.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you," Colleen said, shaking his hand. "I just got some hot water going for coffee. I'll be right back."

Although it was large, the apartment was jammed full. Every wall had bookshelves that were almost at capacity, most of them floor-to-ceiling. There were novels, books on history, politics, poetry, religion, foreign languages and more dictionaries than most public libraries. There was a large world map - the Peter Projection version, Josh noted - with a series of flag pins dotting North America, Europe, northern Africa, India, China, Japan and Australia. He was impressed she had the complete collection of The Harvard Classics. Most of them even looked like they had been read.

Donna was admiring Colleen's collection of photographs taken in a variety of locales. One showed Colleen in front of Windsor Castle. Another photo had Colleen standing on what looked like The Great Wall. Still another photo showed Colleen with a large snake around her neck in what looked like an open-air market resembling a scene from _Casablanca_.

The apartment was furnished eclectically: throw rugs from Africa, Irish lace curtains, Tiffany lamps, a boomerang, a damask-covered camel-back sofa with ball-and-claw feet and a coffee table made out of a glass case to show off canceled post cards from every point on the compass.

Josh chuckled to himself, but Donna heard it.

"What's so funny?"

"The irony."

"What?"

"Her last name is 'O'Leary'. Like the Great Chicago Fire?"

"Cute, Josh. But I don't care. She seems like a nice woman."

"Maybe, but she also seems . . . kind of eccentric. I mean, look at this place. All she needs are the cats."

"But I'm allergic to cats, Josh," Colleen said as she re-entered the room with a tray. Josh blushed at the realization she heard him. Upon hearing this, Donna panicked.

"I thought you said on the phone that cats were fine."

"Sure, for you, but not for me. The apartment I'm going to show you is at the other end of the building, so they won't bother me. I just won't be stopping by for extended visits." As Colleen poured the coffee, she noticed Josh and Donna taking in their surroundings.

"So, how do you like working for the President?" Colleen had obviously read Donna's rental application.

"It's amazing," Donna said. "You never know what's going to happen each day when you walk in the door. My boss can be a real slave-driver, though." Josh shot Donna a look from the corner of his eye.

"I'm lucky in that I've never really had to deal with a boss, at least not over a long period of time," Colleen said. "But my grandmother did, and she told me you have to stand your ground. 'Don't let anybody walk on you,' she always said. 'God didn't make you a human being to end up as a doormat.'" Colleen let out a sigh. "God, I miss that woman."

"Where is she?" Josh asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Heaven, along with Grandpa."

_Oh no, not another Mary Marsh!_ Josh thought to himself.

"I'm sorry," Donna said.

"Hey, it has to happen to us all. I'm glad I had them as long as I did. Would you like to take your coffee with you while I show you the apartment?"

"Sure," Donna said.

Josh and Donna carefully examined the building. It was constructed of a mix of red and brown brick. The hallway floor was made of brown and black tiles in a checkerboard pattern. The high ceiling was painted cream with exposed beams made of an unknown dark wood. Inside of the beams were lights that offset the dark color scheme. As the three of them climbed the stairs, Josh and Donna noted silently that they felt solid and didn't creek. Finally, they arrived at the far end of the hallway. Colleen found the right set of keys, and they entered the vacant apartment.

"Here is da place," Colleen said.

Donna walked 10 feet into the room and stopped in awe. The exposed brick from the hallway continued into the apartment. The dark, hardwood floors were heated. It had the largest windows she has ever seen in an apartment. Practically the whole wall was made of windows. The apartment was high enough she could see the Potomac. The only walled-off room was the bathroom. There was a corner where the new kitchen appliances and sink wrapped around, and two high counters were separated at the point where they would meet with a space for someone to pass through, making the kitchen into its own square. It was spacious. It was beautiful.

It was obviously a mistake. There was no way Donna and her roommate could possibly afford this.

"Well, what do you think?" Colleen asked.

"I think I must have read the ad wrong. You can't charge what I thought you'd be charging for an apartment like this! It's not enough!"

" 'Enough' depends on your point of view. I charge slightly more than I need to in order to cover upkeep and taxes."

"So . . . how do you make a living?" Josh asked.

"I made my money the old-fashioned way, Josh. I inherited it. I am fortunate that my grandparents left me more than fond memories. They worked very hard for their wages, but they were also excellent investors. I'm in a position where I can live quite comfortably off of the dividends. I've been able to graduate from Trinity College and Oxford with post-graduate degrees in literature and history, see much of the world, work on my novels, and do whatever else inspires me. But everybody needs a place to hang their hat. So I tried living in a house, but it was too quiet with just me. Then I tried living in a co-op, but I didn't like my neighbors. When I was living in Dublin, I fell head-over-heels in love with Georgian architecture. So I started looking for a building with similar features and I found this warehouse. It was a chance for me to merge my artistic inclinations with my desire to restore old buildings and experiment with a variety of architectural elements. I knew that when I was finished that I, as the landlady, could have some control over who would be my neighbors. I saw Donna's application and knew she'd be a wonderful addition to our family."

"Family?" Josh asked, somewhat suspicious.

"Well, we do live under the same roof. If Donna chooses to live here, she'll discover we're a close-knit community. We have people from many walks of life in this building, which I like to think keeps the atmosphere in balance."

"So you've got a little commune going here?"

"I prefer to think of it as a well-kept secret, Josh. We don't break out into renditions of 'Kumbaya' or grow all of our own food. Although we do have a lovely herb garden on the rooftop patio in the warmer months…."

"I'LL TAKE IT!" Donna interrupted enthusiastically.

"Really?" Colleen said with equal gusto.

"Really?" Josh replied in disbelief.

"Fabulous! Let's go back to my place and fill out the paperwork," Colleen said with a large grin.

The two women walked ahead, chattering away while Josh stared at the vacant dwelling. Although he had his reservations about Donna's decision - actually, more about her new offbeat landlady - he remembered what Sam said earlier. He decided to keep his opinion to himself.

"I'm being 'supportive guy'. I'm being 'supportive guy," Josh repeated to himself like a mantra. He then closed the door and walked briskly to catch up with the women.

After arriving back at his apartment, Josh told Donna all about Harrison Gray and how he could put together a case for a civil suit while the arson investigation was still underway.

"So what you're telling me is I should rally the troops," Donna said in reference to her former neighbors.

"I think you should all meet to listen to what he has to say and discuss it. What do you have to lose?"

"Right now, nothing."

"I also told C.J. what you said about your landlord. She leaked it to a Post reporter."

"Not Danny."

"No, someone on the city desk. Some woman named Kidd or something like that."

"Fiona Childs?"

"Yeah."

An evil smile came across Donna's face. Working for Josh, she had to read the Post every day and had come to know the work of several of the reporters. Next to Danny, Childs was her favorite.

"She didn't give your name, of course," Josh continued. "C.J. didn't want it to look like she used her influence as a White House staffer to get the story going."

"Would Childs have jumped on the story if C.J. hadn't been the one to call her?"

"I don't know."

"So, in a way, she did use her influence."

"I suppose. But anybody who'd be willing to risk people's lives for profit needs to be stopped." Josh saw Donna was looking depressed again because of this talk about the fire.

"There's a greasy spoon down the street that makes really good chili. You want to check it out?"

"Sure," Donna said while picking up her coat.

For the next week, Donna spent her days at the White House, followed by a couple of hours after work getting the new apartment set up with her roommate, and the nights at Josh's since she was waiting for the furniture to arrive. Josh refused to take back his bed, insisting the couch was quite comfortable. Even though Donna spent so much time in Josh's apartment when he was recuperating from the shooting, this was different. This time, he was taking care of her, doing whatever he could to make her life easier. Josh also wanted to make her laugh - as much as possible. He knew Donna needed to laugh. Some nights they played a board game, others they rented a comedy that had no references to fire. He even invited Sam over one night, when they drank and talked until the wee hours. It was then that Donna told Sam that the information his friend in the D.C. rental housing office dug up was quite damaging to Tristan. Sam was pleased he had found some way to help Donna out.

On the last night she was staying with him, Josh decided to spring a surprise on her. He knew her entire CD collection went up in smoke. On the way home from work, Josh stopped at a little music store and picked up the CD she knew she missed the most. It was a discontinued collection of Billie Holiday's love songs, so he had to get it used. Donna often listened to it while typing late at night and sometimes heard her sing softly along.

When Donna entered, several steaming boxes of Chinese take-out were waiting on the table.

"It smells wonderful," Donna said, rapidly approaching the food.

"Thanks. I ordered it myself."

Donna began to giggle like a schoolgirl. Initially, she couldn't explain to herself why it made her laugh so much. In fact, she felt a lot better than she thought she would at this point. She then realized Josh and she had reached a fork in the road of their relationship. She had carried him when he needed it, and now he had carried her back from a hopeless place. It was a series of many small and a few large thoughtful acts that had changed her outlook to a more optimistic one.

After dinner, Josh pulled out the remote control for the stereo. He punched in the number to play "They Can't Take That Away From Me," and stood up, extending his hand palm-side up.

"Shall we?" Josh asked.

"I didn't know you had any Billie Holiday!"

"I don't. I bought it for you. Thought we'd road test it - you know, make sure there's no scratches."

Donna's face beamed. He knew this small gift meant the world to her.

"Let's go," she said while taking his hand.

After pulling her from the chair, he playfully spun her around. They were light on their feet. At the end of the song, he even dipped her, which made her whole body laugh. As he lifted her back up, they looked into each other's eyes and smiled, but they turned away. With the remote still in his hand, Donna took it from him and changed it to a song Josh often heard her sing - "Until the Real Thing Comes Along." But this was the first time he really heard the words.

I'd work for you

I'd slave for you

I'd be a beggar or a knave for you

If that isn't love, it will have to do

Until the real thing comes along

I'd gladly move the earth for you

To prove my love, dear, and its worth for you

If that isn't love, it'll have to do

Until the real thing comes along

With all the words dear at my command

I just can't make you understand

I'll always love you, darling, come what may

My heart is yours

What more can I say?

Josh felt his hand move further down onto the small of Donna's back. Her head rested between his chin and shoulder.

I'd lie for you

I'd sigh for you

I'd tear down the stars from the sky for you

If that isn't love, it will have to do

Until the real thing comes along

Donna pulled Josh a little closer. Using the hands that weren't on the other's back, their fingers moved to weave into each other. Their rhythm slowed slightly.

With all the words, dear, at my command

I just can't make you understand

I'll always love you, baby, come what may

My heart is yours

What more can I say?

I'd lie for you

I'd cry for you

I'd lay my body down and die for you

If that isn't love, it will have to do

Until the real thing comes along

At the end of the song, Donna stopped the CD player with the remote while still holding Josh. After about a minute, Josh spoke softly.

"Donnatella?"

"Hmm?" she replied in a low voice.

Josh let out a deep sigh. "I think we should call it a night."

Donna was silent for a few moments. She pulled away slightly, still holding him.

"I know," she replied with a tone of sadness.

As they reluctantly parted, they cast their eyes downward. Donna walked towards the bedroom. Just short of the door, she turned around.

"Goodnight, Joshua."

"Goodnight."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Everything." She turned the knob and disappeared.

"No. Thank _you_," Josh whispered under his breath, still facing the door.

A couple of weeks later, Donna had a housewarming - or in this case, an apartment warming - party. Unfortunately, her roommate was out of town on business again, but she was completely content with all of the decisions Donna made in her absence.

The trouble was, Donna didn't know why she didn't hear her buzzer before she heard a knock at the door. It was Colleen, along with Charlie and Zoey. They were asked to make an appearance for the First Family since Donna's new place was close to her and the President and First Lady couldn't make it.

"Donna, I'm sorry but I didn't realize the buzzer didn't work. I put a sign out so everyone will buzz me so I can let them in. I'll get the maintenance man here tomorrow afternoon," Colleen said anxiously.

"But tomorrow is Sunday. You'll have to pay double time-at least," Donna said.

"No matter. This malfunction simply won't do. I'm not going to have my building go to hell in a hand basket!" Colleen exclaimed. "In the meantime, enjoy your party. Take care, Zoey." She left to get back to her apartment in case any of Donna's other guests were buzzing her to come in.

"Bye, Dr. O'Leary," Zoey called after her.

"Doctor?" Donna said while Zoey hugged her.

"Yeah. I can't believe Dr. O'Leary is your landlord! She's one of my favorite profs!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Really? She didn't mention she taught at Georgetown," Donna said.

"She only teaches one term a year. Her class is always full. You'll like her."

"Actually, I already do, but I can't put my finger on why. You guys want something to eat? I think I bought too much."

"Let's dig in," Charlie said. "Oh, before I forget, C.J. said she'd be a little late. She wanted you to have this." Charlie handed Donna a copy of today's Washington Post. On the lower right corner of the front page, Donna caught the circled headline, 'Tristan under investigation for apartment building arsons'. Charlie noted Donna looked quite pleased upon seeing the headline.

Just as Colleen neared her apartment door, she heard the buzzer. As Colleen opened the door, a tall man with dark hair and sparkling blue eyes walked in. He tilted his head as he gazed intently at Colleen.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

"Well, I know you're Sam Seaborne, but I'm not sure where you'd know me. Maybe you recognize me from the photo on my books."

"Colleen O'Leary!" Sam said as he snapped his fingers and shook his finger while pointing at her. "You wrote 'When Lightning Strikes Twice: Parallels of the Irish Potato Famine and the Jewish Holocaust." Colleen smiled broadly.

"Yeah, my novels sell better than my nonfiction works, but I really loved researching and writing that book."

"It was . . . poetry," Sam said. Colleen blushed.

"I'll take that as a great compliment, since I admire your work as well." Now it was Sam's turn to blush slightly. "Let me walk you up to Donna's."

They began to climb the stairs.

"You know, you really helped Donna out by getting that information from your friend in the D.C. rental housing office. Based on what she dug up and your theory about the insurance fraud, Gray is beginning to establish a pattern that might lead to multiple criminal charges against Tristan."

"It was the least I could do. I felt . . . helpless, you know? In the face of such a catastrophe--"

"I can tell you, she really appreciated it. Better yet, I'll let her tell you herself," Colleen said while knocking on Donna's door. The door swung open and Donna threw her arms around Sam, nearly knocking him down.

"Back to playing doorman," Colleen said while heading back to her apartment.

At least she thought that is where she would be. As she was about to open it, she heard her own buzzer.

"Good evening, Ms. Cregg," Colleen said after opening the front door.

"Good evening, Dr. O'Leary." Colleen was stunned that the White House Press Secretary knew of her.

"Have we met and I'm just suffering from a mental block?" Colleen asked.

"No. I remember when you testified in a senate hearing on banned and challenged literature in public schools. I especially enjoyed the part when you pulled out the list of banned and challenged books that were also recommended for college-bound students."

"Thank you," Colleen replied. "It's an issue near and dear to my heart. But I'm sure you don't want to talk shop. Let me lead you up to the party."

When C.J. walked in, Donna saw her immediately. After a brief hug, C.J. gave Donna a box filled with wooden picture frames with some fun photos she had of the staff during the campaign. She thought putting up pictures might help Donna make the space hers. Donna gave her another hug and the two sat on the ledge next to one of the windows. C.J. looked out over the capitol.

"Great view!" C.J. exclaimed. "Want to trade?"

"No way!" Donna replied. "I know a steal when I see one. By the way, Charlie gave me Fiona's article. She's really digging into this, isn't she?"

"Like a Doberman into a T-bone. I thought you'd enjoy it. Danny told me she's been working on it night and day-filing Freedom of Information requests left and right and bugging the hell out of the Arson Unit. Danny said it looks like Tristan may have torched eight buildings in five years."

"Wow. To think he's done this to that many people-it's…" Donna couldn't think of an adequate word.

"I think it will go above the fold once charges are filed, tightening the screws on him."

"You really think they're really going to get him?"

"Donna, he's got the Arson Unit, the district police, Harrison Gray and the Post on his ass. I don't think he's got a chance in hell of beating this."

"Let's hope not, for the sake of the tenants in his remaining buildings," Donna said.

In the meantime, Colleen was looking curiously out her window. About 20 minutes had passed since she first saw the balding man smoking a cigar in front of her building. She was keeping her eyes open for Donna's guests, but couldn't figure out why he was standing out there. Colleen grabbed her black wool peacoat and pulled it over her long, charcoal gray knit column dress. After sliding into her Doc Martens, she opened the front door. The man was gazing at the clear night sky.

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars," Colleen boomed. The man turned around.

"You know Oscar Wilde?"

"Well, not personally," Colleen chuckled. "But I'm familiar with much of his work. Why are you out here freezing, Mr. Ziegler?"

Toby was surprised she recognized him so quickly. He searched his recollection, trying to figure out where they had met.

"How do you know who I am?"

Colleen continued to descend the stairs to meet him. "Well, I might not be anyone of consequence in the great D.C. power structure, but I read the paper every day. Colleen O'Leary, Donna's new landlady," she said with a smile while extending her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. O'Leary," Toby replied while shaking her hand. He noted she had a firm grip.

"Actually, it's Dr. O'Leary, but you can call me Colleen. You still haven't answered my question."

"Which was?"

"Why are you out here on a late winter's eve when you could be in the warm confines of my building? With your comrades in arms?"

"Considering Donna just went through the ordeal of a fire, I didn't think it would be a good idea to ask if I could smoke."

"But there's two cigar ends on the ground. How many cigars do you normally smoke in 20 minutes?"

"How do you know how long I've been here?"

"Donna's buzzer doesn't work and I'm on the lookout for her guests to let them in. See the sign?" she said while pointing her head at it.

"Ah."

"Nervous?"

"About what?"

"About going in?"

"Why should I be nervous?"

"You tell me."

Toby looked askance at Colleen. Under the streetlamp, he could see she had fiery red hair cut into loose layers, ending just below her collar. She had hazel eyes with long eyelashes and very fair skin. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. He could also see the very beginnings of laugh lines and a few scattered white hairs near her side part. Toby was unaccustomed to someone outside of the political realm who could keep up with him. He was also unused to a woman being able to read him so quickly. Although he was tempted to take evasive action, he was curious about this strange woman.

"Donna and I aren't what you'd consider close. I was kind of surprised when she invited me tonight."

"In other words, you're out of your comfort zone."

"Something like that." Toby sat down on the step.

Colleen paused. "Do you swim?"

Toby was puzzled by her sudden shift in topic. "Not regularly, no."

"But you have, right?"

He didn't know where this line of questioning was going, but he decided to go with it. "Of course."

"Which is worse: sticking your toe in and slowly getting into the chilly water or just jumping in and immersing yourself?"

"Getting in slowly." Toby understood what Colleen was saying: just go into the party.

"She told me she's grateful to you for helping her get the safe. This is her way of thanking you-of thanking all of you." Toby thought about it. A small smile formed on his face.

"Should I let you in now?" Colleen asked.

"Sure." They both stood up. Colleen unlocked the door with her magnetic ID card and punching in a code. As Toby followed her to Donna's apartment, he suddenly stopped. Colleen sensed it and turned around.

"Don't turn back now, Mr. Ziegler."

"I was just thinking - what if I want to smoke another cigar?"

"Did you see the door to your left as we came in?"

"Yeah."

"That's mine. Just knock and I'll come out with you." Then Colleen walked past him with a grin. "Maybe you can make those little 'o's for me."

Toby's eyes grew wide with an interesting thought. "I was referring to smoke rings, Mr. Ziegler," she shouted while heading downstairs.

_Well, maybe not just smoke rings,_ Colleen thought to herself.

The last person to arrive was Josh. When he realized Donna's buzzer didn't work, he pushed Colleen's.

"Hi Josh," Colleen said into the speaker, seeing him out of her window. "I'll let you in."

Josh was carrying a very nice bottle of Shiraz. Colleen was visibly impressed.

"What, you thought I wouldn't spring for the good stuff?" Josh said.

"I just didn't realize you were such a connoisseur. But we have a problem."

"What?"

"I don't think Donna has a corkscrew yet. Come into my apartment. I'll get mine for you."

As Colleen headed into her kitchen, she began talking to him while he remained in the living room.

"You're uncomfortable around me, aren't you Josh?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"The little conversation we had right before Donna agreed to take the apartment. I realize I'm not conventional--"

"That's one way of putting it," Josh interrupted.

"But we both have something important in common: we both want to help and protect Donna."

"First of all, you just met Donna, so I don't know where you get off wanting to help her out, and secondly, my relationship with my assistant is my business," Josh said defensively.

"So you question my motives."

"Yes."

Colleen handed the corkscrew to Josh and looked him in the eye. "It's simple, Josh. I'm helping Donna because I want to and I can."

"I still don't get it."

"People get screwed every day. And I don't mean in the fun way. Bad things happen to good people. And no matter how many government programs you create and laws you pass, no matter how many people you give jobs to and no matter how many sick kids you save, something bad is going to happen to somebody who doesn't deserve it every single day. I think you can relate."

Josh looked down at his chest, thinking of how his life changed in the not-so-distant past. Colleen continued.

"Do you know how lucky I am? Josh, I am the luckiest person I know. One day a few years ago I woke up and realized this. That's when I knew that even though I was more fortunate, I couldn't single-handedly save the world. But maybe, just maybe, I could attack some of the injustices. Maybe I could make a few of the wrongs right. Maybe I could start a positive ripple effect. That's what gets me up in the morning; that along with my writing and the people in my life. You guys do the same thing, but on a larger scale. If in some small way, I can help Donna who helps you, who in turn helps the President, who in turn helps the country, then I did what I could. Even if Donna didn't have her position, I would still do this. And do you know why?"

"Because you want to and you can."

"Exactly. Not the same reason you do, but a good reason all the same."

"And why do you think I do it?"

"Because you care about her deeply. Probably more than you can admit right now."

Josh was a quite uncomfortable with this statement - on several levels.

"What gives you that idea?" he asked of her and himself. Colleen opened the door and Josh walked into the hallway while Colleen stayed in.

"I see how you look at her. I see how easy you two are together. I saw how you tried to protect her from a landlady you were uncertain about," Colleen smiled. "Josh, where's there's smoke, there's fire."

With that she gently closed the door and left Josh standing in the hallway. As he began to climb the stairs to meet his friends, he couldn't help but think someone knew a secret about him - one that was so deep that he had even kept it from himself.

THE END . . . _FOR NOW_.


End file.
